


The real hero

by MaggieWoods



Series: Peter Parker is dealing with his depression and telling everyone not to worry about him [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College Student Peter Parker, Gen, One Shot, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Precious Peter Parker, References to Depression, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 19:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20822888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaggieWoods/pseuds/MaggieWoods
Summary: Peter Parker is tired. So, so tired. He's long passed the point where he cares if he's passing his classes. He's avoiding everything and everyone, and he's feeling so damn empty. He wishes someone would hear his silent pleas for help, but nobody does, until someone finally notices.





	The real hero

Peter hadn’t touched his keyboard in hours, even as the minutes ticked away into hours. The revisions on his article for MIT’s undergraduate journal were due in the next 28 minutes, and he hadn’t done anything yet. It was a Sunday, and there was a time where Sundays had been his favourite days of the week. But today had been an empty day. He hadn’t done anything really, barely left his dorm room. He knew he had to shake the feeling away, and get to work, but he couldn’t muster the strength to do anything, let alone revise his essay. He knew he would be a major disappointment to the editorial board, and to Mr. Stark, who had been so nice to pull enough strings so that as a Colombia student, he could do things at MIT every once in a while. It was all the more reason to finish his paper, but it was also all the more reason not to do so. It would be his first official publication, but what if people thought it was stupid? What if he had made mistakes in his argumentation? Mr. Stark had offered him his help, as had Mr. Banner, but no, Peter wanted to do it on his own. Now he was stuck with a paper that was going to be the end of his academic career, right at the start of it. _I’m such an idiot for even thinking that I could do this._

The clock ticked past midnight, past 1 AM, past 2 AM, before Peter finally went to bed. Sleep had become more difficult, lately. He’d never been good at it, and since becoming Spiderman, nightmares happened more often than not. But now, he found himself avoiding his bed, instead choosing to exhaust himself before he brushed his teeth and went to bed. He wasn’t sure why. It made no sense: if he went to bed at a normal time once in a while, he probably wouldn’t be so tired. Or have to rush every morning to be on time for class, because he hadn’t been able to get out of bed. But still, he sat behind his laptop until late at night, often watching how the night changed into the morning before he went to bed.

The next morning was no different. Peter had long since muted notifications for his email accounts on his phone, so he wouldn’t be notified of unread emails unless he opened the app himself. Tony had smirked at him, and Peter had mumbled something about mental health and how not everything had to happen at the exact same moment. He hadn’t been able to tell his mentor that emails scared him, that he felt nauseous every damn time he saw the notification, because it meant another person who was disappointed in him. Another enquiry: why hadn’t he done this and this? He didn’t have an excuse, other than that he felt too empty to do anything. And so he continued to ignore his phone, trying to pretend things were better.

As Peter stumbled through the week, he wasn’t able to open his email. He knew that not replying to the journal’s editorial board was significantly worse than telling him that he hadn’t been able to revise his paper, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. He barely slept, lived off junk food, and completely ignored his friends. It drove him crazy, but he didn’t know how to change any of it. At night, his fingers hovered over the names of his friends, debating to text them. He never did. On Wednesday, MJ called, demanding to know what he had been up to. He had distracted her by asking about her latest story, and whether she was planning on getting it published. He’d asker her about the dogs in the shelter she volunteered at, and at the end of the conversation, he knew everything about her life: and she knew nothing about his. _I wish she realised what I was _doing. It hurt, but it was better this way.

When Friday rolled around, Peter still had not checked his email. After his last class of the day, a lecture for his elective in microengineering, he plugged in his headphones and realised that he had a few missed calls from Tony, as well as two texts.

> Mr. Stark: So now you’re choosing Colombia over me too, huh?  
Mr. Stark: Bring your stuff, but you’re spending the weekend here. Happy’s picking you up at 6. Text him if that doesn’t work.  
  
Peter: That’s okay, mr. Stark. Thanks.

Back at his dorm, he packed his bag. He didn’t bother with checking what he had to do for the coming week, and just grabbed some of his books. He had a laptop and more clothes than he would ever need at the Tower, so he was standing outside way before Happy’s shiny blue car came round the corner.

“Hey, Happy. Thanks for picking me up.” Peter let himself fall into the seat, his head leaning against the cushions of the car. It was only 6, but he was already wishing that it was time to sleep.

“Hey Pete. You don’t have to wait in the rain for me, you know”.

Peter blinked, looking outside. He hadn’t registered that it was raining, but he was definitely wet. He shrugged of his coat and let the car heater do its work. He thought of something to say to Happy, but the man turned on the radio, and Peter figured that it would be alright if he just zoned out for the drive. _He probably doesn’t want to talk to me anyway_.

“… Peter? You with me?” Happy’s voice suddenly shook him out of his stupor. He blinked, and realised the car had stopped in the garage of the Tower. He didn’t bother with a reply, grabbing his bag from the car and walking towards the elevator. Happy put his hand on his shoulder, but didn’t say anything. Quietly, they rode to Happy’s floor.

“Take care of yourself, kid”. Peter pretended not to notice Happy’s concerned gaze, and gave him a little nod as Happy left the elevator. He debated heading to his rooms, but since Tony had called him so many times, he figured he should go see what was up.  


“Hey, Friday, where’s mr. Stark?”

“Boss is currently in his lab, Peter. I’ll take you to his floor.”

As Peter exited the elevator, he realised he hadn’t thanked FRIDAY, which he always did. It took him another minute to realise that he could have said it as he walked, but he didn’t say a word. He let his head hang down. _I’m just fucking up everything_.

He tried to appear cheerful as he walked into the lab. Tony was at one of the workbenches, looking at a simulation FRIDAY was running for him.  
“What do you think, Pete?”

Peter stared at the simulation, but he couldn’t focus. The numbers were there, and it looked familiar, but they just swam in his brain.  
“Yeah, looks good, Mr. Stark.”

“Okay kid, sit down. This talk is long overdue. What’s going on with you?”

“I’m just tired, but it’s fine, I swear.”

“Yeah, no, you’re not getting away with that. You see, that’s what I was thinking these past few weeks. He’s just tired, you’re imagining things, he’s just busy with college. But then an old buddy of mine called me this week, and told me if I had a copy of your article for MIT. Because he thought it was so interesting, and it was a shame that it wasn’t getting published. So I was thinking, hey, what happened, I thought they were publishing it.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, I know you got me that opportunity but”

“Zip it, kid. I don’t want your apologies. I want to know what’s going on. Because I found out from the editorial board that you didn’t do the revisions, and then ignored them. And I’m thinking to myself; That’s not Peter, that’s not the kid I know. He’d rather die than let people down, sometimes literally.”

“But I let people down all the time.”

Tony sighed. “No kid, you don’t. But I figured something more was going on. So, sue me, for violating your privacy, but I contacted a few of your professors this week, kid. And your RA. I wish I could say that I was surprised by what they were telling me, but I’m not. No, don’t go apologizing. I’m not saying that I’m disappointed in you. I just want to help you, kiddo. You’re in class physically, but you zone out all the time. Your RA says you roam the hallways at night, but you always shut her out if she wants to talk to you. She’s worried, you know. And so am I. It’s not the Spidermanning, I know it’s not, you don’t have to try. Just talk to me.”

“I’m sorry, mr Stark. I’ll do better, I swear.”

“It’s not about doing better, Peter. I think at this point, it’s about feeling better.”

Peter was silent for a while. This was what he had been waiting for, right? Someone to realise that he was calling out, silently, screaming for help. Why didn’t it feel like a relief? Why did it feel so threatening?

“You gotta give me something, kiddo. You don’t have to let it all out right now, but I can help you, if you let me.”

Something in Peter broke. Part of him felt like he would burst into tears at any moment, but it had been months since he was able to cry.

“I’m just feeling so empty all the time. So tired. I know I should sleep more, but it’s so hard, Mr. Stark, so hard. I don’t want to think, I just want to live my life, but I don’t even more how to get out of bed half of the time.” Peter let his head hang down, not wanting to look his mentor in the eye. _Don’t let him see how weak you are_. He wasn’t prepared for the arms that were suddenly around him, and pretended not to notice that Tony’s cheeks were wet. Peter wished he could cry, too.

“It’s okay, Peter, it’s okay. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to worry about. We’ll get you help, okay? And I’ll be there, with you, every step of the way, until this is nothing but a dark nightmare. We’ll get you help. You’ll be okay, kiddo.”

**Author's Note:**

> I suppose this is more of a therapy session than a story, but there's so many stories like this in this fandom that it's probably fine. If you recognise yourself in this story, please know that I hope you'll find the strength to reach out to someone someday, even if you think that they don't care about you. I promise. Someday, I'll find that strength, too.


End file.
